


Lass

by MizzAdamz



Series: LunaPorn999: Any excuse for Smut [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Accents, Biting, Blood, Bondage, Consensual Non-Consent, Explicit Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, HPKinkuary2021, Leather gloves, Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-13 09:48:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29774346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MizzAdamz/pseuds/MizzAdamz
Summary: Her captor chuckled in his hood, “Such fierceness in yer eyes, I have ya bound and with no magic to speak of and you still glare at me as if you have the right of it,” he stood up from the grotty bed and stepped forward looming over her. “Ye don’t, lass.”
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Severus Snape
Series: LunaPorn999: Any excuse for Smut [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2079330
Comments: 10
Kudos: 43
Collections: HP Kinkuary 2021, Hearts and Cauldrons Discord Members





	Lass

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LunaP999](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunaP999/gifts).



> Happy Smutty Birthday [LunaP999](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunaP999/pseuds/LunaP999/works)
> 
> This isn't my usual style, but you were so excited about the topic I had to write this for you for your birthday.
> 
> I hope it's a good one!
> 
> Thank you to my excellent Beta [AmiMendal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmiMendal/pseuds/AmiMendal/works)

“I’m glad you told me about this Hermione,” Severus said. His face was a blank canvas, showing no emotions at all.

Hermione, in stark contrast, was red faced, with her eyes downcast and her shoulders hunched. 

“You sure? I mean it is quite extreme and I would understand if the idea makes you feel uncomfortable,” she tilted her face and raised her eyes to look up at her lover. “It’s not something I’m proud of, you know? AND! I’ve never thought you were the type to…”

“Hermione, I am very aware of my history, I was an active participant for most of it.” Severus leaned forward, put two fingers under her chin and raised her head so he could look directly into her eyes. “There is some interest in what you have proposed, and I am always willing to help you explore your sexuality.”

Hermione’s eyes grew large, and she blinked rapidly. “I know you are, but this,” she shut her eyes and a large tear rolled down her cheek. “This makes you look evil, and you’ve never been that.”

Severus gave a chuckle, “I wouldn’t say that my lass,” his polished accent slipping into the earthier tones of his native northern accent, “many have called me evil in the past.”

“But they never knew you!” she protested.

“Hush,” Severus ran his thumb over the trail the tear had left on her cheek. “I am not offended by this little fantasy of yours, not in the slightest.”

“What must you think of me?” 

“Many things, and nothing of what you fear.” He opened his arms, and she crashed into his chest, wrapping her own around him in a fierce embrace.

“Is there anything else you want to add to this?” he asked as he rubbed soothing circles on her back.

“No, not really, I told you most of it.”

“Then my petal, let’s leave it now and let me decide how to proceed.”

“You mean you’ll do it?” Hermione pulled back and looked up at his face. “It doesn’t disgust you?”

Severus took one of her hands and placed it on the swelling in his trousers, “Far from it lass, I think I will enjoy this new little game.”

* * *

Hermione rushed around the corner, pushing her hair out of her face as the wind behind her blew it forward, the February weather being its usual blustery self. 

She was running late to meet with Severus so they could go to dinner. They usually held their Valentine’s Day celebrations later in the month to avoid the over priced ideals of commercial romance. 

Today, Hermione has let herself be talked into a mini spa treatment with Ginny and had the ‘paws and claws’ done. Her finger and toenails were painted with a lovely emerald green glitter that shifted colours in the light, throwing tiny rainbows.

But the aesthetician had talked too long about how amazing it would be to be married to such famous wizards and went over the scheduled hour. Now Hermione was in a rush to get to the restaurant to meet up with Severus. 

He hated waiting.

She could see the corner of the restaurant through her mess of hair, and she tried to move faster when she lurched to a stop, unable to move at all.

Hermione tried to speak but found herself silenced and petrified, and she instantly sought her magic to break her bonds.

A leather clad hand moved over her mouth and a deep voice with a harsh accent brushed against her hair. “None of that lass; you’ll not be wanting to cause a fuss now, will ye?” The wind blew the very familiar scent of oakmoss, parchment, and something male into her nose and the middle finger traced the seam of her lips with a delicate touch.

It was happening then; Hermione understood everything, but she also knew what she needed to do to make this work. So she continued to search for her magic to break her bonds. 

Her captor gave a dark chuckle and tightened his grip over her mouth, and he pressed himself close to her back. “Well lass, if yer going ta be feisty about this, I shall have to take you somewhere where we won’t be bothered now.” 

The world changed into a black swirling smoke as he apparated them away.

When she could see clearly again Hermione found herself in a sparse room, with dingy white-washed walls and a bare lightbulb hanging from the ceiling, there was a cracked pedestal sink in the corner and directly in front of her was an iron bed frame with a dingy mattress on top of it.

She still couldn’t move as her captor’s spells continued to hold her. She was dizzy and disoriented after being transported here to this space, and she faltered in her attempts to break his magics.

Her captor took full advantage of the confusion and pulled on her hair in a cruel grip. Lifting it high and exposing the back of her neck, he grazed the exposed skin with his lips gently before placing a bite where her neck curved into her shoulder. 

Hermione found herself able to scream a little, but her mouth was still held closed.

His quick hands roamed over her body and quickly disarmed her, took her little bag with its Undetectable Extension charm and her modern mobile phone. He did this with his teeth still biting into her flesh. Hermione’s eyes watered in pain as she felt his teeth pierce her skin.

“Now little lass, I do like the sounds you seem to be so keen on making, but holding this spell is rather taxing on me. I’d rather spend my energies on more…. worthwhile activities.” He pulled away from her and tugged.

Her outer robes came off her body easily with a harsh tearing noise, leaving her just in the formal outfit she had worn for Severus this evening. An elegant green satin dress with simplistic lines, but sultry enough with its plunging back that exposed the base of her spine. 

There was a low growl behind her as her captor looked his fill at her bare skin, a thin line of blood making its way down the line of her back.

Hermione whined a little and tried to grab her magic again. It would be more difficult now without being in contact with her wand, but she wasn’t helpless yet. She forced herself to concentrate and ignore the room around her and the painful fear that was crawling up her spine. She also tried to ignore the warmth between her legs and the dampness that it accompanied.

“None of that now, lass,” her captor growled, figuring out what she was attempting. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be.” He was pressed up against her again, the rough fabric of his own clothing harsh against the exposed skin of her back. His leather clad hand pressed against her sternum and there was a flood of warmth in her body that radiated outward from his touch. The heat spread throughout her body until it retreated and settled below her navel.

“I can smell ye lass, ya want this. Ya want me, ya want this like this.” He pressed down and whispered, “ _ Prohibere Magicae. _ ” A scarlet light flashed in the room and Hermione saw stars dance before her. She couldn’t close her eyes and her pupils were fighting hard to protect her vision. 

The light was gone and so was the distracting sensation of being touched by her captor. He was no longer pressed against her back and she couldn’t hear him breathing.

Hermione reached for her magic, but when she tried again, she found her consciousness blocked by something. It felt like her awareness of herself was trapped in a steel box; it was all hard edges and smooth seams. Her magic was gone!

She screamed behind her sealed lips, her eyes trying to shift around in panic, to see more of the room, to gain as much information as she could use to help her break free.

A tall, dark figure in a hooded cloak walked into her sightline and sat on the bed. Her captor, Hermione presumed, spread his legs out wide as he sat down and rested his elbow on his knee. His leather gloved hand disappeared into the darkness of hood and the top of the hood lowered slightly.

“That is a mighty fine frock yer wearing,” his voice said from behind the darkness. “The lad you were expecting to find would have appreciated it mightily.” 

Hermione focused all of her attention on her captor now, trying to find a weakness she could exploit. Her captor chuckled in his hood, “Such fierceness in yer eyes, I have ya bound and with no magic to speak of and you still glare at me as if you have the right of it,” he stood up from the grotty bed and stepped forward looming over her. “Ye don’t, lass.”

He pressed himself close to her, blocking her limited view so all she could see was the dark fabric of his cloak. Hermione heard the zip on the side of her dress move and felt the cool air on her skin as the fabric parted at her side. The now loosened garment was easily shoved off her bound shoulders and slid down to rest at her waist until her captor pushed it over the swell of her hip and it fell to the floor.

She stood naked apart from a simple green pair of knickers, suspender belt, and her black spider silk stockings.

A slow whistle came from the hood of her captor’s hood. “The frock was something, but this lass, this is something else. What a lucky lad you have.” He stepped back to walk around her and appraise her nudity. Feeling his unseen eyes on her while she was helpless terrified her and fuelled the fire burning below her navel. 

Hermione could feel her thighs growing sticky, even held in place as they were. She tried again to reach for her magic and bumped into those steel walls that prevented her from reaching it. She whimpered in fear and frustration - or maybe it was from lust and longing, Hermione couldn’t tell.

“Being seen like this, on display suits you, ya minx.” Her captor took in an audible sniff, “It suits you right well,” his leather clad hand slapped itself over top of her satin clad mound and his fingers dug themselves up between her thighs to tease the gusset of her knickers and trail along her damp slit.

“It’s too bad yer lad isn’t here to enjoy the view, isn’t it?” He growled in her ear, fingers questing and teasing, pushing the fabric up in between her delicate outer lips. 

Hermione moaned and tried to push against the spell holding her still. She needed to do something, break free and run, break the spell and open her legs, beg him to stop, beg him to keep going, something. She couldn’t do anything, her own magic was kept from her, his binding too exact and strong. 

“Give in lass, ye won’t be shot of me til I’m through with yah.” His middle finger did a slow deliberate circle around her clit before giving it a rough tap that made her squeal behind her locked teeth, “and I’m not fit to be rid of you anytime soon.”

As he stood behind her with his arm wrapped around her waist, his hand buried between her thighs, Hermione couldn’t see her captor, but she could smell his masculine musk of oakmoss and parchment, the damp leather of his gloves, and her own arousal.

Her eyes were dry and sore and she desperately wanted to close them, to blink and add moisture to them. She was bound, helpless, scared, and uncontrollably stimulated. Hermione made whimpering noises, trying to plead with her captor to let her go, let her blink, to take his hand away from her, to plunge his fingers in deeper.

“Oh I know lass, I know,” he crooned. He used his free hand to shove her hair over her shoulder, exposing the area he had bitten before. He licked at the wound, disturbing the fragile clot that formed and then sucked to bring more blood to the surface of the bite.

“You and I are going to have some fun tonight.” He spoke against her skin as he pulled his hand away from her sex. Hermione whimpered, in relief or loss she wasn’t sure. He gripped her wrist and lifted her arm and brought it behind her back. Then he did the same with her other hand and held both of her wrists together with a single hand.

“Now be a good lass and stay still for me. This will go much nicer for yah if yah do.” A coil of something wrapped around her wrists and tightened them together. Her captor removed his hand from her and stepped back.

The tension left all of Hermione’s body at once and she could draw a deep breath, she could blink! She stumbled forward, her feet tangled in the dress on the floor. She righted herself before she could fall and tried to run when she was held back by her bound wrists.

“I told you to be a good lass and stay PUT!” the voice bellowed as he jerked her arms back, making her shoulders ache. Hermione whimpered, then she remembered she could move her mouth to speak.

“Please, just- please let me go,” she pleaded, looking over her shoulder at her captor. 

“No lass, I intend to have you tonight, and I will.” He jerked her bound wrists towards him, pulling her close. When she was up against his chest, her arms trapped between them, he wrapped his arm around her again. “You’ve put so much effort into this already, it would be a shame to waste such an offering.” His leather glove smoothed over her knickers again, pushing them to the side. “Such a delightful effort.” He pinched the exposed skin in the crease of her thigh, cruelly making her squeal and try to wiggle away from him.

He moved his hand away from her thighs and up her belly, rubbing the flesh with the smooth leather encasing his hands. He cupped one of her breasts in his palm and lifted it.

“Pert little things, like a wee bird, nesting in my hand.” 

“Please,” Hermione whined.

“Now lass, I do like your pretty noises, but if you get too mouthy and try to put me off, I will have to silence you again,” he warned and pinched her nipple between his finger and thumb. Hermione yelped at the pain but thrust herself into his touch.

Her captor chuckled low and deep in his throat, “I see how it is, lass.” He pulled away from her, releasing her bruised nipple with a cruel twist, and held her bound wrists. “Step out of the mess you made on the floor,” he commanded her and pushed her forward. 

Hermione lifted one foot to disentangle herself from the twisted dress, then stepped down on the delicate fabric to free her other foot. She got both feet free as he shoved her forwards again and frogmarched her to the bed.

When her knees hit the edge of the mattress, her captor kept pushing her forward until she bent at the waist and had her face down on the bed, her bound wrists held at the small of her back and her backside up in the air; the angle was helped by the heels of her dress shoes.

Her captor shoved his foot in between hers and pushed her legs further apart, as he kept pressing her shoulders down into the filthy mattress.

“This first time isn’t going to be sweet, lass.” She heard the rustling of fabric and his weight shifted a bit, “well not for you. The first taste of a quim is always sweet for me,” he chuckled.

Her knickers were pulled down her thighs in a quick movement and she felt the dull point press up against her. 

“Oh?” his voice was surprised, “Maybe it will be sweet for you. Yah seem to be a bit wet down here, lass.” He ran the tip of himself up and down her very damp slit, and Hermione moaned into the fabric underneath her.

“Might be sweet for the both of us,” he said as he thrust into her with no further preamble.

Hermione gasped and tried to pull away from the intrusion, but his forceful grip on her back and the unsteady positioning of her spread legs kept her in place.

Her captor stayed seated inside of her until her whimpers and gasps slowed down and her breathing evened a little. Then he pulled out slowly, deliberately, delicately, like a concerned lover would. Hermione relaxed further and sank onto the mattress.

Then he thrust back into her with twice the violence of the first thrust and reached forward and grabbed the hair at the base of her neck. He lifted her head up off the bed and pressed down on her shoulders, arching her back painfully as he pushed himself roughly into her and pulling out with just as much force.

The low fire in Hermione’s belly sparked at the discomfort of her position and with every tug of her sensitive hair and the scratch of the harsh fabric over her nipples, she felt flames heat her core.

She clenched herself, trying to prevent his assault, but he only took it as encouragement to move harder and faster. Hermione whined and cried and arched into his abusive touch.

“That’s it lass, give in to it. This is what ye’ve been wanting,” he panted.

Hermione clenched her eyes shut and sank into the sensations of her body, letting each one fuel the fire between her legs until she was blazing and alive and engulfed.

As her orgasm broke over her, she lifted her head higher and screamed a long deep scream as her entire body shuddered and shook. Her captor growled and thrust a half dozen more times before his howls matched her own.

He collapsed on top of her, panting, and licked the wound on her shoulder.

“Thank you, Severus,” Hermione panted.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Petal,” Severus said as he reached up to undo the knots at her wrist.

  
  
  
  
  



End file.
